More Horror in the Heights
by Spikeimar
Summary: Angel, Cordelia and Doyle investigate an old case involving Kolchack.


"Angel"

More Horror in the Heights

Part One

Angel sat with his feet up on his desk, flicking through a paperback version of "Peanuts" that he had found tucked away among his book collection. He didn't know for certain who had put it there but he could make a few accurate guesses, mostly involving Doyle. He stopped flicking the pages and read one of the cartoons. He re-read it. It still made no sense to him. Then, all of a sudden he grinned. Yes...that was funny, in a sort of inane way. He read on and even found himself chuckling at times.

"So...this is what you get up to down here is it, and there we were, thinking you were just brooding all the time..."

Angel snapped his feet off the desk and tossed the paperback aside as Doyle spoke. He had the sneaky suspicion that this was all planned just to embarrass him.

"It's not...mine. I just..." He tried to explain.

"Yeah...I believe you...NOT! Now, what is it worth to you that Cordelia never finds out about this?" Doyle had a grin on him that made his face look as if someone had come along with a saw and cut it in two.

"Find out about what?" Cordelia asked.

"Nothing!" Angel and Doyle both said at once, leaving Cordilia with a perplexed look on her face. She shook her head as if this would somehow remove the look and continued speaking.

"Look, whatever you guys get up to down here is something that I, quite frankly, don't want to know about...but we have a client upstairs and as he's alone in the office and very likely stealing the coffee mugs as we speak, one of you better go see him!" With that she turned and headed for the lift.

The client was old...very old...so old that Doyle felt sure that if he poked him with a stick he would crumble into a pile of flaky grey bits, but then a lot of people Doyle knew would do that if poked hard enough with a stick, so it kind of proved nothing. He was wearing the sort of Homburg hat that went out of fashion several decades ago and a coat to match, and either it was snowing outside, which Doyle kind of doubted, this being the hight of summer in L.A., or the man was suffering from an extreme case of dandruff. The prospect of a fat paycheque at the end of this job seemed remote and Doyle moved round behind the client while Angel sat down behind his desk. The client sat on the rickety chair reserved for those who were desperate enough to need the services of Angel Investigations. It creaked worrieingly as he did so.

"Well, Mr..erm.." Angel began.

"Mr Lindstrom...call me Charley..everyone does." The man spoke with a pronounced Jewish accent and a gravelly tone that told of a lifetime of nicotine usage.

"Well...Mr. Lindstrom..."

"Charley" Interrupted Doyle.

"Yes...Charley...what can we do for you?"

"My friends are dying Mr...Angel is it?"

"Angel will do..this is Doyle." Angel motioned towards Doyle who was busy fiddling with some fluff from one of his pockets.

"Pleased t' meet you, Charley." He said without looking up.

"And I'm Cordelia." Said Cordelia as she sat a mug of brown liquid that she optimistically referred to as coffee in front of Charley.

"Well...Angel...as I said...my friends are dying. Well, actually they are being killed. Murdered!"

"Murdered?" Angel leaned forward, "By whom?"

"By what is more the point. I'll start at the beginning. I live in the Jewish district, down by 4th and Turner...you know it?"

"I've been there"

"Ah...I see by your face that you have. It's not the nicest place in the world but I've been in worse...much worse. Well, several weeks ago a body was found...very dead and almost completely eaten..."

"Eaten?" Doyle looked up..."Eaten by what?"

Charley crained round to look at Doyle "Well, the Police said it was rats, I ask you, we get a lot of rats round there, all the meat markets you know? But rats? It's sheer idiocy. Well, the body was never formally identified, it was almost completely eaten...did I mention that?, but as poor old Mr. Goldstein went missing at the same time we figured it might possibly be him... he had no family so where else would he go? That's right...nowhere. Anyhow, nothing strange in that, an old man has a heart attack or a stroke and falls where no one finds him and..God rest his soul, the rats get him. We have a lot of rats...did I mention that also?"

"Yeah...kinda." Doyle moved round and sat on the edge of Angel's desk, ignoring the look he gave him, "I presume something else happened then?"

"You bet your ass it did...erm...excuse me Miss!" He doffed his tattered hat at Cordelia who looked back bemused, then he continued, "A few days later another body was found, again eaten by rats, or so the police say. But this time they could identify the body by the clothing...and guess who it was? No you couldn't could you...forgive me? It was Mrs Sandlemann, a nice lady, used to make a wonderful apple pie with little cinnamon balls in...what a waste for her to go like that."

Angel rubbed his eyes and wished the old man would stick somewhere near the point, "And what makes you think the rats didn't eat her?"

"Mr Angel...she weighed in at close to 350 lbs... a small woman she was not...and she was found only a half hour after she had left her neighbours apartment. Now...I ask you, what sort of rats could strip a large woman like that in less than half an hour? None that's what. I say someone, or something is killing them...and eating them too. I tried to get the police to look into it but what's a few more dead old folk to them...eh? Nothing that's what. These young officers they don't know..."

Angel interrupted his stream of thought by raising his hand and asking "Mr..erm..Charley. Why did you come here? Why to us?"

"Well...I had heard that you look into erm...unusual things...shall we say? And this is unusual..and frankly...we have nowhere else to go."

"Oh cool...now we're the last resort too!" Cordelia looked heavenward and sighed.

Angel looked over at Doyle as Cordelia showed Charley out of the office, and asked him what he thought of the old man's story.

"Well, I figure there's three possibilities here...One, He's a senile old goat who's imagined the whole thing..."

"That's easy enough to check...the police reports will either confirm or deny what he said."

"Two...they are old people...they kind of lose track of time...the Lady left a lot longer than half an hour before she was found and we're back to rats...or Three..."

"Three...we have a flesh eating demon picking on old folk in our town!" Cordelia sat herself down on the edge of the desk. She had a knack for boiling down problems into their simplest forms.

Angel rose and nodded, "We better go at it as if that's what we've got. Cordelia, can you check on what sort of demon we might be dealing with here. A flesh eater, probably fairly cowardly..."

"Cowardly?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"It's picking on people who couldn't possibly fight back. It's also likely that it's new in town...so Doyle, check out some of your contacts...see what they have to say."

"They usually say 'sod off Doyle, you owe us money' but I'll give it a go." Doyle headed out, "What you gonna do?"

Angel looked at the closed blinds...He could feel the sunlight even through them.

"Wait" was all he said.

Angel pulled his Plymouth into the curb by the block Charley had said he lived in and switched off the engine. He glanced around and the sights did nothing to cheer him. That people were forced to live in these neighbourhoods, and old people at that, was something he could never understand. The buildings were just this side of derelict and some looked as if a sudden gust of wind would finally see them into the next world. The atmosphere reeked of decay, which was a stench Angel knew only too well. It was a human stench. Angel sometimes wondered who the real monsters were.

He climbed out of the car and walked up to the entrance of the block and stopped to acclimatise himself to the smell of stale urine and who knew what else. He opened the door and entered, Charley having invited him to do so while at the office. It was something Angel got all his clients to do otherwise investigation might prove a bit difficult if all Angel could do was mope about on the sidewalk. The elevator was out of order, something that didn't surprise him much. What did surprise him were the numerous swastika's daubed all over the walls. They were all shapes and sizes and something about them caused a small light to switch on in Angels mind. He recognised something about them but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Never mind...it would come to him. He made for the stairwell but as he pushed open the door a figure came barrelling out almost knocking Angel to the floor.

"Sorry...sorry." Was all the figure said as he rushed away. Angel started to go after him but a scream caused him to falter. He decided to investigate the scream first, the man could wait...Angel had his scent and he shouldn't prove difficult to follow.

The scream had come from somewhere above and Angel leapt up the stairs two at a time until he came to the source of the noise. An old woman was standing looking at a heap of clothes on the stirs, and screaming. Angel looked again at the clothes and realised that they were in fact, what was left of a body. It had been partially eaten away, the remaining flesh looking as if it had been through a meat grinder. Angel moved to the woman and tried to calm her.

"Get a grip...can you tell me what happened?" He looked into her eyes and realised that whatever she had seen had caused her to retreat into her own mind. He had seen so much madness and shock in his time that the look was as familiar to him as a smile would be to anyone else.

A group of old folk had appeared from below and above and Angel let them take the old woman away to one of the apartments. Charley elbowed his way through the growing throng and called to Angel.

"You see...Mr Angel...it's happened again. Oh and it's Mr. Perching...such a nice man...he owed me money! Ah...I think that's a debt I won't be collecting on...Forgive me Mr Angel...when you've seen as much death as I have it takes a lot to shock...but I can see...you are used to death too, am I right?"

"I've seen death...too many times." Angel knelt by the remains and looked hard at them as if willing an answer to emerge from the rapidly cooling mess, "But this is different..." He tailed off lost in his own thoughts.

After making sure Charley got back to his apartment all right Angel retraced his steps back to the entrance lobby and made off after the figure who had almost knocked him down. The man had been young and although of slight build he was obviously strong. He was human and of Asian origin. He shouldn't be too difficult to track down.

Angel followed the trail for a few blocks then looked round puzzled. Strange, the scent stopped dead. As if the man had simply vanished, leaving no trace. Angel frowned, well, he added a bit more to the frown he already wore and then made his way back to the car, perhaps Doyle and Cordelia had turned something up.

"So, I've checked the demon databases and there are currently two hundred and fifty six listed flesh eaters. God, what a city this is?" Cordelia made a face and then tried to narrow the search parameters down a bit. Meanwhile Doyle was doing his usual hopping around the office routine, obviously hopeing that Cordelia didn't catch the sly looks he was giving her whenever the chance arose. She noticed, but with Doyle it was best to just let him get on with whatever loser thing he was doing today.

"I..erm...I checked around and the word on the streets..." Doyle started to say, but Cordelia cut him off, mid sentence.

"Word on the streets? What are you? Some sort of negative unhip version of Shaft? You really got to learn some new expressions Doyle!"

He was momentarily taken aback and just stood gapeing at her, then decided to just continue as if she hadn't spoken.

"The word on the streets is that even the demons won't go near that neighbourhood at the moment. They ain't saying why but their scared of something." He stopped moving and stood arms folded in front of Cordelia, who didn't reply. She looked up at last and then said.

"Oh...sorry, did you say something? I was reading about this demon that only eats faces...which is kind of gross, even for a slimy demon."

"Not all demons are slimy you know?" Doyle said but Cordelia wasn't listening, she had obviously found another interesting entry.

They both looked up as Angel entered the office. He placed his leather coat carefully on the coat-rack and then looked up at his assistants.

"Anything?"

"Not a lot, well, a lot of flesh eating demons, but none that really match what we want. Anyway Doyle says the demons are running scared of whatever it is anyway."

"That's not exactly..." Doyle tried to correct Cordelia but she went on...

"Did you find out much at Charlie's?"

"Yeah," Angel added yet another layer to his frown, "Another dead old person and a suspect that can seemingly vanish at will."

"Great...we're making progress then?" Cordelia smiled widely at Angel and he felt his frown increase once again.

Part Two

Angel paced the office, trudging backwards and forwards in front of Doyle and Cordelia, who were looking at him in a worried fashion...well...slightly more worried than they usually looked at him.

"You know," said Doyle as he moved his head following Angel's pacing, "That...that isn't helping much..." He had the feeling he was becoming hypnotised by the constant movement and shook his head to clear it.

"Didn't you know? That's how the dark avenger works...there's a crime to be solved so he uses his formidable powers to pace the office!" Cordelia didn't even attempt to hide her sarcasm, which showed Doyle that she was as worried by Angel's behaviour as he was.

Suddenly Angel stopped and looked round at them,

"Did you speak?" He asked quietly then the heavy frown seemed to momentarily lift from his features.

"Of course...the Haken Kreuze...the lobby was covered in Haken Kreuze!"

"The lobby was covered in ice cream?" Cordelia took her turn in the looking puzzled queue.

"No Haken Kreuze...erm...swastikas. The symbol used by the Nazi's during..."

"Yeah...we know what a swastika is," Doyle glanced at Cordelia, "Well I do anyhow."

"I know the Nazi's thankyou...just how shallow do you think I am?" Cordelia looked hurtfully at Doyle who suddenly felt a little shamefaced at what he had said, but Cordelia continued anyway, "They dressed in grey and wore those clunky boots...no sense of style at all...right?"

"Guys...leaving aside the fashion requirements of being a fascist for a moment...the entry lobby of Charlie's building was covered in swastika's"

"Well it's a Jewish building...sorry to say there's still sicko's about peddling that pure race crap!" Doyle grimaced at this as if he had personal experience of it, but the others didn't catch this. "Probably just some sort of NeoNazi buggers."

"No...that's the point...the swastika's were the wrong way round..."

"Thick NeoNazi buggers then...what's yer point?"

"The Nazi's didn't invent the symbol...they simply used an old Hindu icon and reversed it. Cordelia...check the database for the relevance of the Hindu version of the swastika." Angel knew he was onto something here...or at least he hoped so, they had precious little else to go on.

"Ok here's the gen..." Cordelia waved a sheaf of papers in Angel's face as he looked up. As he reached out for them Cordelia snatched them out of his reach, "Don't worry, I'll give you the gist...don't want you getting bored."

Angel sighed and momentarily contemplated a return to the good old days when all he had to worry about was who his next meal would be and keeping his fangs clean. Cordelia started to speak and he snapped back to the present.

"Well, you were right...which is like, unusual in itself I grant you but..." She noticed the look flick itself across Angel's face, she knew the 'look' well and decided to get to something relevant sharpish, "Yeah well, the swastika was, for like, centuries a symbol of protection from evil...that's kinda ironic isn't it? But the other way round. Seems it was used to ward off demons...like you with crosses!" She beamed at Angel who said nothing, "Well it was supposedly handed to man by some guy called Brama, the Divine Brama...gee, sounds a bit stuck up, who'd he think he was...some sort of god?"

"Yes...he was. Hence the Divine part of his name. Any luck cross referencing the symbol with the demon database?"

"Some. There's not a lot to go on but the computer keeps chucking out the name 'Kolchak'...mean anything to you?"

"A demon called Kolchak? Never heard of one..." Angel was puzzled, he had come across most of the demons still on the planet but this one didn't set off any alarm bells in his memory.

"He's not a demon." Doyle wandered into the office, munching on a box of Cap'n Crunch and spreading them around like confetti. "You mean to tell me you never heard a' Kolchak?" Angel shook his head "Carl Kolchak? The reporter...you must'a been really out of it during the Seventies man..."

"I spent a lot of time in alleyways...didn't get to hear the latest news alot. Who is Carl Kolchak?"

"Well...he's legendary...he's offed more demons than your Slayer!" Doyle noticed the flicker of pain in Angel's eyes and quickly moved on "He was a reporter in Chicago during the problems they had with the portal opening up."

"Portal? What's a portal and are you going to clean up those crumbs?...this place is starting to resemble your apartment." Cordelia gave a withering look at Doyle but he was in his stride now. When there were tales to tell, Doyle was ready to tell them.

"A portal...sort of like a miniature HellMouth, a real nasty one...only they didn't know it then. The thing attracted demons and creeps like flys to an open toilet...the authorities were, like, totally unprepared for it and the only person who seemed to realise something was up was ol' C.K. He was working for a news agency at the time. Not that he was a stranger to this sort o' thing as he'd already dusted a vamp in Vegas. But anyhow, Kolchak was a one man army against the demons...but he kinda staked first and asked questions later...a bit gung-ho, you know?."

"So what has Rambo Jr got to do with our little problem?" Cordelia asked.

"How the Hell do I know? You were the one on the computer..." Doyle grinned and threw a handful of cereal at her. She made a grab for the stapler and fired off a few at his rapidly retreating form.

Angel sighed once again.

"You know, I was rather hoping that by the time I reached this time of life the children would have left home."

Angel left Doyle and Cordelia to try to track down this Kolchak person while he returned to see Charley. Perhaps he could shed some light on what an ancient Hindu symbol was doing daubed all over his block. With any luck he might also run into the Asian whom Angel was sure was at the centre of this mystery. He drove quickly for there wasn't much of the night left and ash was so hard to get out of his car's upholstery. Angel grinned to himself...see Doyle...he did have a sense of humour.

Charley heard the light tap, tap on his door and froze. Since this business had started he had become almost a prisoner in his own home, having gotten the buildings supervisor to install as many locks and dead bolts as he could fit on the door. He crept slowly to the door, fingering the half length of pool que he habitually carried around now.

Who..who is it?" He shouted through the door. Damn...he should have had one of those fish eye's fitted. There was no answer to his question and he repeated it, louder this time.

"It's me...Angel. Open up I need to speak with you."

Charley visibly relaxed...he slumped against the door and sighed to himself. Much more of this and his old ticker would give up on him. He started to unfasten all the locks but left the large chain on. He may be old, but he was far from stupid. He cracked the door open and peered out into the gloom of the corridor. Surely enough there stood Angel, he couldn't mistake that overhanging brow for anyone else. The frown was a bit of a give-away too.

"OK Mr Angel...give me a second to get this..." He closed the door and unhooked the chain. Before he could open the door again he was thrown back off his feet as Angel kicked the door open. Charley went flying and landed heavily across the room. There was a nasty crack as he hit the ground and a shooting pain all down his left side caused Charley to bite his lip...he had learned a long, long time ago not to cry out in pain. It was something he was secretly proud of, despite the terrible way he had learned to do it.

He looked up and saw Angel standing in the doorway. The normally stoic appearance of the detective gave way to a huge grin...an evil grin...one that Charley knew only too well. He had seen it so many times before...the look of a man who took great pleasure in inflicting pain on others.

Angel slammed the door shut and moved towards the prone figure on the floor. Charley suddenly felt his strength leave him and tried to back away across the floor. He made a pitiful sight and at the end of his life, he looked as old as every one of his years...as Angel reached down and grabbed him, Charley heard a terrible scream, the scream of the damned and with no small contempt realised the scream came from his own lips. Yes, as his flesh began to tear, Charlie's last thoughts were contempt for himself...he had survived the death camps without once ever giving his tormentors the satisfaction of hearing him scream, and now he had given in to the indignity of pain. His death was quick...and violent.

Doyle rubbed his eye's for the twentieth time...he'd rather be out there with Angel, facing who knows what dangers than here, trying to get sense out of the telephone operators.

"No...NO! I said Kolchak...Carl Kolchak...no I can't spell it...I can hardly even say it. Ok I'll hold"

He looked over to where Cordelia was curled up on the couch...he didn't blame her...telephone conversations were hardly a spectator sport. He thought momentarily about waking her and asking if she would grab him a coffee but thought better of it, he had enough hassle with tracking down this reporter. A voice on the phone asked him what he wanted. It sounded annoyed. Well, two could play at that game.

"Look you wire tapping fools...I want to speak to Carl Kolchak...It's surely not that hard to..."

"I'm Kolchak. Do I know you?"

Doyle nearly dropped the phone in astonishment...finally.

"Erm...No...hello Mr. Kolchak. My name is Doyle, I'm erm..a Private detective in Los Angeles and I need your help. At least I think I do."

Doyle explained the problems they were having to Kolchak, who listened quietly. When Doyle had finished his little tale, Kolchak told him one of his own. And Doyle felt the blood drain from his body as it went on.

"Oh Jesus!" Was all he could say at the end of it.

"Oh...I don't think he'll be of much help to you, lad.." Kolchak said.

Angel trudged his way up the stairs to Charlies apartment, the lifts still not working. He walked along the corridor and stopped suddenly. The door to Charlies rooms was wide open, the light cast eerie patterns on the wall. He could also smell blood...lots of blood. He rushed towards the door and leapt in, rolling on the floor and coming up in a fighting stance.

"Nice moves...but you're too late."

Angel stared at the figure in the room. He was surprised. No..surprise didn't do it...he was shocked. He narrowed his eye's hoping this might help...it didn't.

"Buffy?" Was all he could stammer out.

Part Three

Angel swallowed hard...he tried to think but a fuzzyness had descended on his mind, and his thoughts started to merge into one. Where Buffy was concerned his judgement was at best biased and at worst highly suspect but this was different, for among the chest crunching feelings of warmth and sense of being home there was also...fear?. He finally gathered his thoughts together enough to take in his surroundings...The small but homey apartment, decorated with the trivia and brick-a-brac of a lifetime, Buffy...Buffy was here as well...and the body on the floor too. The body...he looked away from Buffy and registered the mangled and bloody form that until very recently had been Charley Lindstrom, one time survivor of the Nazi death camps, erstwhile client of Angel Investigations and now rapidly cooling corpse. This seemed to clear Angel's mind somewhat and he looked back up at Buffy, who hadn't moved.

"Buffy..what? Why are you here? What's happened?" If Buffy had come here it must be something important...Angel realised this must be as painful for her as it was for him. He felt like a junkie that had come through a cold turkey cure only to suddenly find himself locked in alone, overnight at a crack factory. He wanted so much to rush to Buffy and hold her, to smell her, to... but he realised this way lie madness...or worse. To his credit, he stood his ground.

"You need my help, Angel!" She said quietly and started to move towards him. There was something in her movements that caused a moment of doubt to creep into Angel's subconscious...but this was Buffy. Buffy Summers, his Buffy...he finally gave in and tried to move towards her but found himself rooted to the spot. Confusion clouded his mind once again.

"What's going on, Buffy? I can't...I can't seem to move." He found himself unable to even look away from Buffy who was now almost within touching distance of him. She suddenly broke into a wide grin, wider than her face should have allowed.

"I'll explain everything...everything..." She said through the grin...though the voice was Buffy's it contained something that Angel couldn't quite put his finger on, something inhuman. It took a demon to know a demon.

The thud of a crossbow bolt hitting the wall behind them caused both vampire and slayer to turn and look and something in the room, at that moment changed, a darkness lifted and Angel found himself free to move. He whirled round and there in the doorway was the Asian man from the lobby. He was quickly pulling back the string on the crossbow he held and as he skilfully threaded another bolt into it, Angel leapt towards him, knocking them both to the ground.

"No...you don't understand..." The man screamed as they went down, collapsing in a heap in the hallway, "Rakshasa...Brama suderam Rakshasa..." He aimed this last outburst, not at Angel but at Buffy who looked on with disdain, the grin having shifted into a tortured grimace, then fled the room at an astonishing speed, sweeping past them, a coldness followed her as she moved.

"Buffy..wait..." Angel shouted after her but she was gone, as if the gloom of the corridor had swallowed her alive. He grabbed the collar of the man and pulled him to his feet, "I want explanations...and they better be good." He slipped into his hunting face for added effect and the man pulled back. The man reached into his shirt and pulled out a small medallion, in the shape of a swastika, and held it infront of Angel's face. Angel smiled.

"That's the wrong sort of cross, friend." he said and licked the points of his teeth.

Doyle and Cordelia reached the lobby at about the same time, both panting heavily, though Doyle panted with a terminal enthusiasm that spoke ill of his current state of health.

"Geez," Wheezed Cordelia, between huge sucking gasps of air, "You...are...so...unfit..." She gave up the effort of trying to taunt him and mentally made a note to continue at a more sensible time.

"Yeah...well...my frame is better built for propping against a bar than this running lark...people do this for fun?" He slowly straightened up and made for the lifts. He pressed the buttons eagerly and nothing happened.

"Oh great...the lifts ain't working..." He grabbed Cordelia and dragged her to the stair well.

"Oh no...Doyle...if you kill me I am definitely coming back to haunt you! You won't know a moment's peace from me!"

She didn't catch the huge smile that Doyle wore as they started up the stairs.

"I mean you no harm...it's the Rakshasa I hunt...it must be destroyed!" The small Asian man had recovered from the sight of Angel in his more vampiric form and was starting to struggle in his grip. Angel held on tightly, he was determined to find out what the Hell was going on and why Buffy was here.

"I won't ask again, who or what is a Rakshasa and what does it have to do with all of this?"

"A Rakshasa? Kolchak said it was a spirit, a real ugly, vicious one. Used to be a servant of Ravana or someting. One of the Hindu gods I think..." Doyle tried to explain to Cordelia as they climbed but she still wasn't getting it.

"So what's the big fuss...ugly spirit, kills people. I mean, been there done that, bought the t-shirt. Angel will kick it's ugly butt back to...well...where ever the Indian gods go to when their butts have been kicked!" She couldn't see what all the fuss was about, Angel handled this sort of thing all the time.

"But this spirit, this demon can see into it's victim's minds...it becomes whoever the victim trusts the most....Now ten dollars to the lucky contestant that can guess who it will appear to Angel as..."

"Buffy" Cordelia began to see the problem, "But Angel won't hurt Buffy...he'll..he'll..."

"He'll be killed! Now come on"

"So you're saying that wasn't Buffy?" Angel had released the man, he realised he wasn't much of a threat, let alone capable of the sort of killings that had been happening in and around this block, "I know Buffy Summers and that was her...I could feel it was her!"

"But you have doubt? Not many people would have the power of thought to even have that. But then not many people can do what you do with your forehead"

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Angel led the man back into the room, where Charlie's body lay. He removed the cover from the sofa and gently placed it over his body, "Sorry Charley." He said quietly.

"He was a friend of yours?"

"He's...he was a client. Who are you while we are on the subject of identities?"

"I am Tanvir Suhail. Last of the Rakshasa Slayers..." Tanvir looked down on saying this as if he felt a guilt on hearing his own words, "Well, I will be a Rakshasa Slayer if I can kill this one"

"So let me get this straight. The Rakshasa was a disciple of Ravana and they visit this world periodically to see if it's time for their return?"

"Correct and we, the Hunters, sense their coming and destroy them. A task that was originally set us by the Divine Brama himself." Tanvir made a sign as he said this, and then continued "They can only be killed by piecing their heart with a wooden crossbow bolt blessed by Brama."

Angel rubbed his chest where his own heart rested, "Hmmmm they can't think up a new way?" He noticed Tanvir's look of bewilderment and shrugged, "Don't worry...please continue."

Doyle and Cordelia reached the floor they were looking for at last, neither of them were the better for the trip.

"I hate stairs... where the Hell are all those anti-gravity boots they predicted in the Fifties?"

"In the same cupboard as the silver jumpsuits...come on Doyle, let's find Angel." Cordelia pushed open the door and went through, Doyle following, making little mewling sounds as his lungs collapsed.

"Hold on Cordy...erm Cordelia. I gotta get my breath back."

"We haven't got the three weeks that's likely to take but...shhhh, who's that?" She motioned up ahead and in the gloom of the corridor Doyle spotted a figure doing what could only be described as 'lurking' he screwed up his eyes and tried to focus on it...it looked somehow familiar to him.

"Oh thank god, it's Angel!" He cracked a smile at Cordelia and pushed past her towards the figure, but Cordelia grabbed his arm and held him back.

"That is not Angel." The figure in front of them was big, hairy and was making a very weird growling sound, "Unless he's let himself go...and I mean really let himself go."

Doyle looked at her and shook his head, "That little bit of exercise must have deprived your brain of oxygen, that is Angel." He looked back at the figure and sure enough, it was their boss, skulking around it had to be said but then he was like that. "Come on!" He pulled Cordelia forward and Angel finally spotted them and moved towards them.

"I'm telling you...that is NOT Angel." Cordelia tried to pull away from Doyle but he held her tight as the shaggy beast came their way.

Part Four

The creature was halfway down the corridor now, getting closer and closer to Doyle and Cordelia. Cordelia was desperately trying to pull Doyle away but he stubbornly refused to move. His eyes took on a glazed appearance that caused her to contemplate panicking. She thought for a moment, then consigned this strategy to the trashcan, panic would probably get them killed and that just didn't fit in with her plans for this evening...or any evening. She planned to live forever...or die trying.

"Come on you...you...well, there isn't a word for you at the moment. Come on!" She tugged at Doyle but he just stood there, a stupid smile on his face. This called for drastic measures, "This is gonna hurt me more than you...well, it isn't but you know what I mean." Cordelia stood directly in front of Doyle and brought her knee up into his groin. He went down with a yelp of pain.

"Jesus...what the hell...Oh my God..." He seemed to come out of the trance and caught sight of the creature he had thought was Angel. It was suddenly a huge, fur covered nasty, and it was almost on top of them.

"Come on!" Cordelia pulled him back into the stairwell and they slammed the door. Doyle looked around wildly to find something to bar the door with and spotted a fire axe hanging on the wall opposite. He grabbed it and between them, Cordelia and Doyle managed to wedge the door fast with it. As they did this the whole doorway seemed to move inwards a few inches as a great force was brought to bear against the other side. A series of loud thumps echoed down the stairwell as the creature tried to pound it's way through, but the door held. Just.

"What the hell is it? It was Angel...I was convinced it was Angel." Doyle's voice edged a few decibels higher as he thought of what might have happened.

"It must be that Rakshasa creep. You said it appears as whoever you trust the most." Cordelia listened at the door but the pounding had finished and the sounds of something unfeasibley large and heavy shuffling off could be heard through the door.

"So...how did you know it wasn't Angel?" Doyle was puzzled...

"You were the only one with the Angel fixation...to me it looked like some shaggy great beast... all teeth and curls!"

Doyle looked at her with interest, Kolchak had said that no-one saw the beast as itself until it died.

Angel and Suhail ran towards the pounding that was coming from down the corridor. Suhail grabbed Angel by the arm and stopped him.

"Remember Angel... the creature will try to fool you again. Even with the knowledge of this you will find it difficult to resist the Rakshasa." Sweat had broken out on Suhail's brow, "Even I, who have been trained since birth have difficulty with recognising the true face of evil!"

"Don't worry...evil knows evil" Angel pulled away from his worried compatriot's grasp and hurried on to the stairwell.

"It's gone!" Cordelia listened intently at the door while Doyle slowly removed the fire axe.

"It better be...or it's gonna have a splitting head ache." He lofted the axe high above his head, ready to bury it in the skull of the creature, should it still be there, "Open it."

Cordelia opened the door and jumped back as Angel barrelled through it. Doyle gave a yell and brought the axe down as hard as he could. Angel blocked the blow and twisted the axe from Doyle's grasp.

"And your plan is? To kill the boss and thus move a step higher in the business?"

"Angel! It's really you?" Cordelia hugged the scowling figure of their employer and Doyle wiped his sweat covered forehead with his sleeve.

"Don't be doing that, pal!" He grinned at Angel, "Glad to see it's you though!"

They returned to Charlie's apartment and exchanged stories. Angel listened quietly as Doyle told him of his telephone conversation with the reporter, Kolchak.

"So this Kolchak killed one of these beings in the early Seventies?" Angel was curious as to how the newsman had accomplished this.

"Yeah...evidently the beast appeared to Kolchak as a little old lady that he worked with. An agony aunt or something."

"How did he see through the false image?"

"He didn't. He wasn't sure if it was the real old girl or not."

"What did he do then?" Cordelia asked.

"He shot he. Through the heart with a crossbow. Hey...you know reporters!"

Suhail paced the room, impatient to return to the hunt.

"Yes, I have heard of this man. He was with the last Hunter when he died. It takes a special person to face down a Rakshasa and live to tell of it. The Rakshasa is virtually unbeatable, it's image sees to that."

"Oh big deal...it's a furry old monster...not exactly inconspicuous." Cordelia couldn't see what all the fuss was about.

"You saw it in it's true form?" Suhail stared at Cordelia in disbelief, "The Rakshasa can pick the image of a trusted one from any mind!"

"Well, it obviously couldn't find anything in my mind!" Cordelia crossed her arms and looked at Suhail. Doyle suppressed a giggle, but not very well.

"So...you're the only one who can recognise this thing?" He said after a few choked gasps. "That makes you our secret weapon then? Nothing to worry about!"

"No, you don't understand. The legends tell us the Rakshasa is a scout for the rest of it's kind. It comes periodically to this realm to see if the world is corrupt and distrustful enough to warrant their return. It's said that when the Rakshasa finds someone who has so little trust as to see it in it's true form the time is right!"

Angel frowned at this, "So you're telling us that because it couldn't find anyone who Cordelia trusted in her mind, it's going to bring all it's relatives back here with it?"

"Yes! Unless we can kill it before it can return to it's own realm. We must find it's lair!" Suhail grabbed his crossbow and started to thread a bolt into it.

"Jeez, Cordy" Doyle sighed, "You couldn't find one person to trust?"

Cordelia fixed him with a glare, "Hey...this is L.A. remember?"

Angel got to his feet and stepped between his employees.

"Enough. We have work to do. We have to find this creature and destroy it."

Doyle looked at his watch, "But Angel, It's way past sunrise...shouldn't you, well, be heading back home?"

"No time...anyway if I'm right the Rakshasa will be holed up somewhere in this building. All the murders have occurred in or around it."

"Where do we start looking?"

Angel looked up. "Top to bottom. We'll start on the top floor."

As they moved out to start the search Cordelia muttered to herself.

"I bet it's hiding in the air ducts...they always hide in the air ducts."

Part Five

The four of them were an unlikely group, two humans, one half human half demon and a vampire with a soul, but they were united in one purpose. To find and destroy the Rakshasa before it could return to it's own realm and bring it's kin to ravage the world. They made their way towards the stairwell, all of them worried about the task ahead in their own way.

Tanvir Suhail, the only deity approved Rakshasa hunter among them, wiped the sweat from his eyes, he was worried that he may not be up to the task ahead, for while he had trained all his life to do this, he had yet to test his faith against that of the Rakshasa.

Angel, vampire detective and general righter of wrongs, was worried. He could feel the day as it grew, despite being in a windowless stairwell. It was like a shroud around him, making the task ahead that much more difficult.

Cordelia, wannabe film actress and sometime assistant for Angel Investigations, was worried. She was consumed with the thought that her cynical nature may have been the catalyst for the world's destruction. And the stairwell smelled of old people and cats.

Doyle, reluctant half demon was worried. There was no particular reason, Doyle just worried as a way of life...it kept you alive on the mean streets of the city of Angels.

"Don't you think we should split up? There's a time factor involved here." Suhail broke the silence that had descended onto the group. The other three all stopped and stared at him, as if he had just suggested they disrobe and dance around naked.

"Are you stupid or just criminally insane?" Doyle couldn't believe this guy, "There's a monster around here somewhere that can take on the form of any one of us and you want us to split up?"

"Don't they have films in Europe?" Cordelia asked him, "The monster always gets you if you split up. Gee, while we're at it why don't we find a nice dark cellar to explore without torches and while walking about backwards?"

Angel motioned for them to be quiet, they had reached the topmost level of the apartment block. The general state of repairs in this block was bad but up here, where the apartments were not used any more it was akin to something you might find in a warzone. There was clutter all around, the stairs were littered with debris and filth, and they stank...real bad. Angel pushed open the door and entered the floor. The others reluctantly followed him.

The corridor was even worse than the stairwell, and several of the apartments were missing doors. The smell was almost overpowering, and Cordelia found herself gagging. Doyle helpfully thumped her on the back causing her to jump and scream, which is no mean feat while gagging.

"Sorry" Doyle said meekly.

They checked one apartment after the other, and found nothing that suggested the creature had been here. Room after room was full of old furniture and piles of refuse. The health authority would have a field day, assuming they would even bother coming up here and not just demolish the building on principal.

"This is getting us nowhere...and slowly at that." Doyle said for the third time. Cordelia ignored him for the third time. Angel was starting to agree though, there had to be a better way than this to find the Rakshasa.

"Tanvir...tell me, why does the Rakshasa mutilate the victims?"

The Asian looked around nervously, then spoke up, "Well, they do it for two reasons. Firstly it causes fear to spread, and fear breeds distrust. That's why they generally pick on those groups of people who have known little but fear and distrust. And secondly, the sheer effort of maintaining a physical body in our dimension takes huge amounts of energy from the Rakshasa...they...erm...consume the flesh of their victims for food. They need to feed quite often."

"So this one will probably be looking for food right about now?"

"Quite probably"

"Then if we put something tempting up for it to feed on, it might very well come to us...rather than us having to find it?"

"Yes but..."

They all looked at Cordelia.

"Oh great..." was all she said.

Cordelia stomped about the deserted room, making as much noise as she could. She hated this, everytime there was a need to lure some creep out of the woodwork they came to her. Why did they never use Doyle? Well, she thought to herself, that was understandable really, no self respecting monster would bother with Doyle. She tried not to look at the door to the bedroom, where she hoped Angel and Doyle were waiting to spring the trap. Suhail was stationed down the corridor, as a rear guard in case the Rakshasa tried to come at them from the stairwell.

Cordelia had been clumping about for ten minutes now and still zip. She was beginning to think that the damn thing was off eating another pensioner when she noticed a faint odour in the room. Doyle? No this was like you got round electrical equipment, and then she saw something from the corner of her eye. It started as a faint glow, then grew bigger and bigger, becoming more corporeal as it grew.

"Oh great!" She backed away slowly and out of the corner of her mouth whispered, "Angel!"

The shape formed and became the huge shaggy outline of the Rakshasa. Suddenly it was fully formed, and moved towards Cordelia with saliva dripping from it's teeth. Too many teeth, thought Cordelia, nothing should need that many teeth.

"Angel!" She whispered again. No reply. "ANGEL!" she shouted and finally the two would be trap springers burst through the door.

"Hold it right there..." Doyle levelled the crossbow he was holding at the two figures in the room, "Oh that's just bloody great!"

Angel looked from one end of the room to the other, "We probably should have thought about this happening!" He said.

In the room were two identical Cordelia's, both of them looking at Doyle and Angel with an equal lack of confidence.

"Shoot it!" They both said in unison, then they looked at each other in disbelief.

"What are you waiting for? Shoot it!" One of the Cordelia's shouted.

"Don't listen to it...I'm the real Cordelia...shoot it!" Shouted the other.

"You get the feeling it's gonna be one of them days?" Doyle said with just a hint of despair creeping into his tone.

"Now you know why I prefer working nights!" Angel replied.

Part Six

Doyle gulped hard as the two Cordelia's looked squarely at him and said in unison,

"Doyle...it's me!"

Normally the thought of two Cordelia's would have brought images to his mind that were of an altogether more appealing nature, but all he could think of was that one of these Cordelia's had to die...and quickly. As usual, the fate of the world rested on it! What he wouldn't give for a nice quiet day, where the only problems he had was in deciding what variety of new stain to add to his shirt.

"Angel...can't you tell...you know...use some o' them vampire powers of yours?"

Angel looked away from the Cordelia's and gave Doyle a dirty look, and Angel could give very dirty looks when he put his mind to it.

"Yeah well my X-Ray vision is on the blink at the moment. Who do you think I am? Superbman or something?"

"It's Superman...geez Angel! You're so unhip it's a wonder your ass doesn't fall off!" The sarcastic comment came from the left hand Cordelia. She looked to the ceiling as she said it and then gave a sigh.

Angel and Doyle both looked at each other then at the Cordelia who had spoken, then back to each other. They spoke at the same time.

"Got to be ours!"

The other Cordelia suddenly made a lunge towards them and moved with a speed they didn't think the creature was capable of. It barrelled into Doyle and shoved Angel away with a sweep of it's arm. He went sailing backwards and hit the wall so hard that plaster rained down like snow as he fell to the ground.

Cordelia ran to the doorway leading to the corridor and yelled for Suhail, the Rakshasa hunter, to kindly make an appearance. Only her words were slightly more Teamster than that. She suddenly felt herself flying through the air as the Rakshasa grabbed her and threw her out of the way. It wanted to be out of this place and obviously the thought of a good meal was not stopping it.

Angel picked himself up and brushed the dust and plaster from his coat.

"I just had this cleaned..." He morphed into his killing face as the anger overtook him and ran after the departing creature.

"Wait..." Doyle too was just getting to his feet, "We gotta stick together..." He stumbled after Angel as Suhail appeared in the doorway.

"What's going..." He began to ask then saw Angel's face and stood back to let the vampire through.

"Look after Cordelia" Angel growled and grabbed the crossbow from the man as he hurried past. Doyle followed a few beats afterwards, and together they chased after the departing figure of the false Cordelia.

"What happened?" Suhail asked Cordelia as he helped her to stand. She looked at him with ill disguised mistrust.

"Well...DUH. Your great hairy monster got the drop on us...again!"

Angel was moving fast but he could barely keep pace with the creature, he lofted the crossbow to his shoulder as he ran but couldn't get a clear shot. He couldn't waste the bolt...Brama blessed crossbow ammunition was kind of difficult to come by in this day and age. The beast quickly disappeared into a side room and Angel followed. The doorway led to a very rickety set of iron stairs, leading up, that ended in another door, just swinging shut. Angel charged up the stairs and burst through the doors into a world of pain.

Daylight blinded him and he felt his skin start to burn and blister. 'Damn it' he thought to himself. The creature had led him onto the roof. Every inch of exposed skin screamed in pain and smoke had started to pour from his clothes. He was on the verge of passing out when he felt a tug from behind and suddenly he was back in the glorious coolness of the stairwell. He fell backwards, taking Doyle, who had grabbed him, spinning and rolling to the bottom of the rusty stairs. They landed in a heap at the foot and Doyle tried to disentangle himself from the still smouldering Angel. He looked at his friend and was horrified to see the skin on his face and hands was blistered and peeling. He looked like someone who had been wandering round a desert for weeks.

"Jesus Angel..."

"Get after it, before it disappears again." Angel handed the crossbow to Doyle and the small man looked at it with trepidation.

"Me?"

"GO!"

Doyle opened the doorway leading out to the roof and glanced around. No-one...or more to the point...no Rakshasa. He moved slowly, sweat running down his forehead in torrents. The salty fluid stung his eyes and he wiped them with his sleeve.

"This isn't my style, Angel." He muttered to himself, "Your the one gets off on all the he-man heroics..." He looked around the roof area. It was large and cluttered, as if the tenants had brought all their crap up here rather than get rid of it properly. It resembled a junkyard. Piles of old crates littered the place, giving ample hidey holes for flesh eating demons to secrete themselves in.

He leapt round a pile of tea chests and aimed the crossbow but there was nothing there but more junk.

"Damn...don't these old folk ever throw stuff away?" he said to no one in particular, then moved on.

Suhail found Angel at the foot of the stairs, still the worse for his daylight activities. He helped the vampire to sit up and asked him what had happened.

"The creature is up on the roof...Doyle has gone after it..he'll get it."

"But Angel...If the Rakshasa appears as one close to Doyle, he will still fall victim to it, even knowing what it probably is." Suhail muttered a prayer for Doyle under his breath, which angered Angel. No one was saying the last rites for his friend just yet.

"Get me something to cover myself with...NOW!"

Doyle had covered almost half of the roof, when he heard a noise behind him. He leapt forward, attempting to do a double roll and come up facing the other way, as he had seen Angel do so many times. Instead he crashed into a pile of old wet newspapers and almost lost his grip on the crossbow. He managed to fall back and finally looked across at where the noise had come from.

Cordelia stood looking at him with concern on her face.

"Are you ok? What the heck was that supposed to be?" She moved forward to help him up.

"Hold it!" Doyle pointed the crossbow directly at Cordelia. She frowned at him.

"Doyle...don't do that...you could take someone's eye out with it!"

Doyle was confused...why was Cordelia here? Wasn't he supposed to be doing something?

"Angel's hurt...he said we should stick together..." Cordelia was frowning at him in that way she had. Doyle had always liked that frown. He was suddenly filled with the certain knowledge that this WAS Cordelia...his Cordelia. Things were going to be all right now. The two of them could get the...what? Something...deep in the back of his mind started to niggle at him. Something about a monster.

"Let me help you up." Cordelia smiled and Doyle found himself weakening...

"Stop it!" He said between clenched teeth. The crossbow was wavering now and started to drop towards the ground.

"Stop what? Doyle...you drunk again?" Cordelia moved a step closer.

"No...please...don't move. Cordelia?" Doyle felt his mind slipping away from him. He dropped one hand from the crossbow and tried to inch back from Cordelia. His hand grabbed at the old newspapers...something sparked in his mind...newspapers...the reporter...what was his name? Doyle tried to get his mind to work...Kolchak...Kolchak. What was it the reporter had said when Doyle had asked him how he had managed to shoot what appeared to be his friend?

"It was a leap of faith Mr Doyle...a leap of faith."

But Doyle had no faith...he had no faith in himself, other than the faith that he would screw his life up...he certainly had no faith in a god who would create a world like this one, would create something like himself...In fact the only things he had faith in were Angel and...and...Cordelia. He looked hard at the figure in front of him, It WAS Cordelia...he knew this in the very heart of his soul...Tears started to well up in his eyes, they ran down his face mixing as they went, with the sweat that still poured from his brow.

"God...I'm so sorry..." He raised the crossbow and closed his eyes. Screwing them tight as if this would shut out the world and all it's suffering. His suffering. He felt his finger squeeze the trigger and he screamed.

Angel wrapped the heavy fire blanket round himself, it would give him a few minutes protection against the harsh light, but not much more. He grabbed the stair rail and started to climb when he heard Doyle scream.

"Doyle!" Angel crashed his way up the stairs and out into the light.

He found Doyle sitting crying to himself, the crossbow discarded next to him. The large hairy figure of the Rakshasa lay a few feet away, a crossbow bolt stuck in it's chest. A look of surprise on it's face, if surprise it was, with a Rakshasa it was hard to tell. Angel felt the daylight seeping through the blanket and grabbed at Doyle. Lifting him to his feet and quickly pulling him quickly towards the stairway. Suhail looked on from a distance, he let them pass then made his way towards the dead form of his foe, he knelt over the body and started to pray for it's soul.

As they entered, Angel threw the blanket off his shoulders and helped Doyle down the stairs. Cordelia appeared, bruised and dusty from the direction of the corridor and looked up at them.

"What's wrong with Doyle?" There was concern in her voice, for once, untinged by sarcasm.

"Rough day." Angel slipped on the stairs and Cordelia leapt to help him with Doyle. The three of them, one battered, one burned, one bruised, held onto each other and made their way down the corridor.

"Can we go home now?" Cordelia asked Angel.

"Home it is." The vampire smiled to himself and they disappeared into the gloom of the Heights.

The End (for now)...


End file.
